Metal Meredith

I am going to start blocking calls from my friend Chris. He seems to be the delivery boy for sad news more than I care to recognize. The last time he called me with this kind of information, we lost the Harveys on New Year’s Day 2006. This time, it wasn’t someone I knew, more like knew of. Of course, everyone seemed to know Patrick.

Patrick Power was never a friend of mine and I am sure we only said 10 words to each other in our whole lives. At the time, I was convinced that he was another infamous face in Richmond with an ego the size of a blimp and trail of faithful scenester followers nipping at his heels. He died tragically last week and left behind a wife and a 5 month old son. I was pretty detached when Chris told me what happened and relayed the story (or rumors) as he heard them. I felt a loss for Richmond and for all of the people he seemed so close with, those minions that did his bidding will be crushed.

But after a while I started to get curious about the man that I was so quick to dismiss as another Richmond jerk-off. I spent a few hours looking at people’s dedications on websites and blogs, gazing at each of the photos and soon found myself crying. What a wonderful person he seemed to be. From what I have read and the few times I was in his presence, it was obvious that he fully lived each day. There is entry after entry of people who felt accepted and joyful around him, people who say that he added something to their life that they cannot name.

I have been in a funk for the last 3 days after hearing about his death. Mostly because it seems such a waste for someone who people loved and thought of and remembered and who touched so many to just give up. I will fully admit that I know nothing of the circumstances of his death, but I am haunted by the loss of Patrick III’s chance to know this amazing person. Will he ever know that his dad was the King of Richmond for a good solid decade? Will he ever get a chance to meet the people first hand who his dad had such an influence on?

I know this isn’t about me, and I am fully aware that I mourn so much less that those who he was a part of. I am grieving selfishly because I never gave him a chance. I couldn’t stop my own self-esteem issues long enough to let down my guard and try. Today, I feel that loss in a person that was obviously such a friend to many, that I didn’t allow to be a friend to me. I am still struggling with this fact after 35 years on this earth. Patrick appeared to not have this in him. He was likable, sincere and full of chutzpah. I vowed on Thursday night to let this be a lesson to me.

My heart goes out to his family and friends. I know that between Virginia and New York, there is a dark gully that no one will fill. Those shoes are just too big for the average person.